Sold To The Mafia King .

Chapter 1: Pouring on the charm

I walked aimlessly down the street, not really paying attention to where I was going. My mind was spinning with everything that had happened in the past 24 hours. It all felt like a cruel nightmare, but the duffel bag slung over my shoulder was a painful reminder that it was a harsh reality.

Dmitri, my boyfriend of two years, had dumped me so suddenly and callously. One moment we were making dinner plans for the weekend, and the next he was screaming at me to get out. The look of cold disdain in his eyes as he handed me the check will haunt me forever. I gave him everything-my love, my trust, and my body. And he threw it all away, all for that whore who stood by his side with the most disgusting smirk I wanted to wipe off so badly.

I stumbled upon a park and collapsed onto a bench, succumbing to the torrent of tears I'd been holding back. My sobs echoed through the empty place as darkness fell. How could he do this to me? What had I done so wrong to make him stop caring? These questions swirled in my mind, taunting me with their unanswered misery.

The streetlights flickered on one by one, jolting me from my daze. I needed to find shelter for the night but had nowhere to turn. Dmitri cut me off from our shared friends, not wanting me to "tarnish" his reputation. My parents were dead to me, and I had no other family. That's when I remembered Emercyn from my part-time job at the coffee shop.

She was the only person I could think to call. Emercyn answered on the first ring, concern evident in her voice when I told her what happened through choked tears. "Don't move, I'm coming to get you," she said gently but firmly. My mind swirled at how easily I was going to be manipulated. It was all in front of me, but I was too blinded to see it. He made me get a part-time job, and he allowed his 'best friend', aka his whore, Sheila, to work as an accountant in his company.

Emercyn arrived within half an hour, folding me into a comforting hug. She drove me back to her tiny apartment, letting me crash on her couch with a blanket and pillow. I must have cried myself to sleep from sheer emotional exhaustion. The next morning, she made me tea and toast, forcing me to eat something despite my lack of appetite. Over breakfast, she told me I could stay with her as long as I needed to get back on my feet. I was so thankful for her kindness.

After clearing away the dishes, Emercyn brought up the elephant in the room. "Have you thought about what you're going to do now?" she asked hesitantly. I shook my head dejectedly, overwhelmed just thinking about the future. She placed a reassuring hand on mine. "A friend of mine told me about an exclusive bartender gig that pays really well. I think you should check it out," she suggested.

I sighed, knowing I needed to find work fast if I wanted to stay afloat. Maybe bartending wouldn't be so bad as a temporary solution. At this point, I was ready to try anything. "Do you have the details?" I inquired halfheartedly. Emercyn beamed, glad I was open to the opportunity, and scribbled down an address on a scrap of paper.

"They said to just show up tonight after 9. Wear something nice but comfortable. I really think this could be great for you," she encouraged with a smile. I forced one in return, touched by her efforts to lift my spirits. After chatting for a little while longer, Emercyn had to leave for her day job at the bookstore.

Alone with my thoughts once more, I started to get dressed in one of my only semiformal outfits - a black pencil skirt and silky blouse. My makeup and hair took much longer than usual to do, mainly because my hands were still shaking from nerves and leftover anguish. By the time I deemed myself presentable, it was nearing 9 pm.

I took a deep breath before exiting Emercyn's building into the chilly night. Following her directions, I walked the few blocks to an inconspicuous door tucked between two stores. There were no signs advertising the establishment within. Frowning in confusion, I thought perhaps I had the wrong address. Just then, the door swung open, startling me.

A tall, bald man in a sharp suit peered down at me impassively. "Name?" he grunted gruffly. "I-Isadora Cortez," I stammered, intimidated by his hulking presence. He glanced at a clipboard before nodding once. "You're expected. Follow me," he droned, gesturing for me to enter. I complied shakily, curious yet anxious about what awaited on the other side.

The interior was dimly lit and sparsely decorated, with plush booths and low tables scattered throughout the spacious room. Smooth jazz music filtered through discreet speakers, providing a sensual ambience. A long bar stretched along the far wall, stacked high with gleaming bottles of liquor. Only a smattering of well-dressed patrons have occupied the space so far.

My guide led me through a nondescript door behind the bar. I found myself in a bustling kitchen, where two harried chefs worked over steaming pots and pans. A beautiful Latina woman with flowing dark hair caught my eye, striding over purposefully. "You must be Isadora. I'm Rosaline, the manager. Please, follow me to my office so we can discuss the details," she said with a lilting accent.

Her tone was professional yet friendly as she sat me down across from her wide mahogany desk. "Emercyn spoke highly of your work ethic and customer service skills. We're looking for an extra pair of hands to assist our bartenders during busy evenings. The pay is twenty dollars an hour plus generous tips. How does that sound?" Rosaline proposed graciously.

My eyes widened in surprise and delight. That wage was drastically higher than my coffee shop job. I couldn't believe my luck to stumble upon such an appealing opportunity so quickly. All thoughts of hesitation fled as financial security danced before me. "That sounds amazing, I'd love to take the position," I replied eagerly. Rosa beamed at my enthusiasm.

"Wonderful! I'll have you shadow Miguel tonight to get familiar with him. Then you can start your own shifts next week. Do you have any questions before we get you set up?" She inquired warmly. I racked my brain but came up empty, still reeling over the turn my fortunes had taken. "No, I think I'm all set. Thank you so much for this chance," I answered gratefully.

Rosa escorted me back out to the bar area, introducing me to Miguel - a lanky, boyish man around my age. His smile was crooked yet charming as he showed me the complex mess of liquors, mixers, and equipment behind the counter. Miguel was patient and thorough in explaining the various cocktails, drink orders, and responsibilities expected of me.

By the time we got swamped with the late evening rush, I had gotten my sea legs and flowed through the motions rather smoothly thanks to his coaching. Customers were polite and left decent tips, to my delight. The hours passed in a blink as Miguel and I tag teamed filling drinks. At last call, I collapsed onto a bar stool, sweaty and exhausted yet buzzing with adrenaline.

"You did amazing for your first night, Isadora. I think you'll fit in great around here," Miguel commented sincerely as we did a cursory cleanup. Rosa arrived to check on us, impressed by what she observed over my shoulder. "You picked up bartending fast. I'm looking forward to having you officially join our team," she praised. I beamed under the positive feedback, proud that my efforts had paid off.

After wrapping up the final touches and cashing out my tips, Miguel offered to walk me out. We exited through the discreet door onto the empty street, the club patrons long gone. A shiver ran through me as the brisk autumn air hit my skin. Miguel noticed my trembling and gallantly draped his jacket around my shoulders with a charming smile. "Let me make sure you get home safely. Which way?" he prompted kindly.

I blushed, unused to such gentlemanly behaviour after Dmitri. Miguel seemed genuinely sweet as we conversed during our stroll to Emercyn's. All too soon, we arrived at the familiar building, stopping at the threshold. "Thanks again for everything. I really appreciate you looking out for me," I expressed gratefully. His returning grin made my stomach erupt with butterflies.

Before I knew what was happening, Miguel closed the space between us and pressed his soft lips to mine in a swift yet delicate kiss. Sparks shot through me as I stood frozen in shocked delight. Just as quickly, he pulled away with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. "I'd like to take you out for a real date if you're interested. Let me know your thoughts," he uttered tenderly yet nervously, backing away with a small wave before my stunned silence could continue any longer.

My fingers floated up to touch my tingling mouth, still reeling from the intimate moment. Miguel was undeniably attractive and kind, a far cry from my past mistakes with men. But was I ready to open my battered heart again so soon? I trudged upstairs, lost in perplexing contemplation, exhausted yet wired all at once from this wildly eventful first night at my mysterious new job.

Chapter 2: Into the Lion's Den

I woke the next morning still uneasy about the interactions I witnessed at the bar the night before. Something didn't seem quite right, but I couldn't put my finger on exactly what was bothering me. I hoped that with the light of day, things would appear more normal, but deep down, I had a nagging feeling of unease.

Shaking off my worries, I went through my morning routine and headed back to work. As soon as I walked in the door, I could sense a strange tension in the air. The staff were whispering to each other more than usual and giving me odd looks. Trying to ignore the uncomfortable vibes, I tied on my apron and got to work, setting up for the afternoon shift.

The first few hours passed in a blur of mixing drinks and running food to tables. Business was slower than the day before, but the clientele seemed even more eccentric and unbridled in their behaviour. I felt eyes watching my every move as I served drink orders. A few men lingered too long, making inappropriate comments, when I walked by with empty dishes. I gave terse smiles and excuses to remove myself from unwanted conversations as quickly as possible.

Around 5 p.m., things began to die down in the bar area as patrons filtered off to dinner. I spotted my chance to take a quick break and slipped into the back room to grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge. That's when I overheard snippets of a hushed conversation coming from the adjoining storage closet.

"I can't believe they're actually going through with it tonight."

"I know, it's insane. But you know how these big shots are; they'll pay anything for a thrill."

Intrigued yet worried by what I was hearing, I inched closer and cracked the door open slightly to peek inside. Two of the cocktail waitresses were hurriedly whispering and re-tying the strings on their bustier tops.

"Do you think they'll really make us, you know?" the blonde one asked nervously.

"I hope not, but you never know with that crowd. I heard last time one of the girls quit on the spot after what they made her do. I'm just hoping I can grit my teeth and get through it for the tip money."

My heart began to pound. What on earth were they talking about having to do? Some sort of degrading performance for these wealthy guests? A trickle of panic started to set in as I realized this was no ordinary bar and the people who frequented it were into much darker activities than simple drinking and socializing.

Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, I popped back out into the hallway and leaned against the wall, taking slow, calming breaths. I needed answers but had to approach the situation carefully. A few minutes later, the waitresses emerged from the storage closet and brushed past me with anxious eyes, obviously nervous about whatever was planned for that evening.

When things slowed down again at the bar, I sidled up to Jeremy, the bartender who had first warned me about the clientele. "Hey, I couldn't help overhearing some of the staff talking earlier. They mentioned there was some sort of, I don't know, auction happening tonight? Do you know what they were referring to?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casually inquisitive rather than panicked.

Jeremy glanced around warily and lowered his voice. "Look, Isadora, I meant what I said the other day. You seem like a good kid, and I'd hate to see you get mixed up in the sort of things that go on around here after hours. It's best if you just do your job, keep your head down, and then go home at the end of your shift like nothing ever happened. Trust me."

Frustrated with his evasiveness but knowing I wouldn't get any straight answers from him, I sighed in resignation. "Alright, I won't pry. But you have to admit, it's a little unsettling not knowing what's really happening under this roof. I just want to be able to look out for myself."

Jeremy paused for a long moment, wrestling with how much to reveal without putting me in danger. "Fine. I'll tell you this much: after we close, some of the VIP guests like to gamble on live performances involving the staff. Things can get pretty graphic and demeaning. Cash flows freely, so the bosses turn a blind eye as long as business is booming. My advice? Finish your bartending duties and get the hell out of here before midnight. You don't want any part of what goes down after hours, trust me."

I felt slightly nauseous imagining what sort of depraved acts these wealthy patrons enjoyed betting on. I knew Jeremy was right-it was best if I steered clear of the after-hours activities for my own safety and sanity. But my innate sense of justice was also kicking in. How could they allow such dehumanizing treatment of the employees just for the sake of money and power thrills? There had to be a way to shut this disgusting operation down for good.

I finished out my shift on autopilot, wrestling with my conflicting instincts to flee the premises versus stand up to the corruption. By 11:30 p.m., the bar area was mostly cleared out as guests dispersed to secret lounges and parlors for the real festivities of the night. I glanced around furtively as I tidied the last few tables, hoping my managers were too preoccupied to notice if I lingered a little longer than planned.

Just then, two well-dressed men approached the bar carrying leather satchels bulging with cash. "Get me a bottle of Macallan and two glasses. We've got a big game starting in the Blue Room in fifteen minutes, and I aim to win it all tonight," one gloated to Jeremy as he slapped a stack of hundred-dollar bills down on the bar. Intrigued, I slowly loaded dirty dishes onto my cart, pretending to eavesdrop casually while stealing glances at the exchange.

"You know the rules, Hendricks. Betting closes at midnight sharp, so get your ass in gear if you want a seat at the table. Don't say I didn't warn you; the stakes are higher than ever tonight. Word is, Mr. Ames just added a new prize to the pool," the other man teased with a predatory gleam in his eye.

I felt a chill run down my spine. A new "prize" to bet on-was it referring to one of the staff being used in whatever depraved performance they had planned? I couldn't just walk away and leave someone at the mercy of these monsters. My mind was made up-I had to find out exactly what was going on in the so-called Blue Room and get evidence to take to the police. Quietly slipping out the side exit, I texted my roommate to let her know I'd be late, took a deep breath, and headed towards the secret rooms in the east wing with determination and dread warring inside me.

The hallways were eerily silent except for occasional muted laughter and conversation drifting through closed doors. I moved stealthily, sticking to the shadows along the edges and trying each door handle carefully. The first few rooms were empty parlor lounges set up cozily with pool tables and bar areas. But as I crept farther down the corridor, muffled screams and pleads for mercy began to reverberate through the walls. My heart raced as a door at the end of the hall creaked slightly ajar, dim light and raucous male voices spilled into the hallway. Peering through the crack, what I saw made my blood run cold.

A sprawling basement room had been outfitted like a high-stakes casino and gentleman's club rolled into one. Scantily clad cocktail waitresses fluttered about refilling champagne flutes for well-dressed guests lounging on leather sofas and ottomans. But the center of the room was taken up by an elaborate gilt cage where a young woman sobbed and cringed against the bars, naked but for a handful of strips of duct tape barely covering strategic areas. Two burly men paced the perimeter like lions, cracking bullwhips menacingly towards anyone who dared approach.

A suited host stood on a raised dais, calling out bids and gleefully taking wads of bills from enthralled onlookers. "You there in the Armani, do I hear ten thousand? Going once, going twice... SOLD to Mr. Ames for a cool one hundred thousand dollars! Now let the games begin."

I stifled a scream, terror and revulsion coursing through my veins. I had to get help; I had to stop this depravity before it could continue any further. But as I turned to flee, my foot snagged on a loose floorboard with a resounding crack that echoed down the hall. Panicked eyes locked with mine through the gap in the cracked door. I was spotted.

Chapter 3: The devils auction

As the clock ticked closer to closing time, I couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled deep in my stomach. The air in the club felt heavy with tension, and the whispered conversations among the staff only added to my unease. Despite my best efforts to push aside my worries and focus on my work, the nagging sense that something sinister was happening beneath the surface lingered.

As the last few patrons finished their drinks and made their way out, the club's doors were locked with a finality that sent a shiver down my spine. I exchanged uneasy glances with my coworkers, but none of us dared to voice our concerns aloud.

Before I could gather my thoughts, Jeremy appeared at my side, his expression grave. "Isadora, come with me," he said, gesturing towards a hidden passage at the back of the club. With a sinking feeling in my chest, I followed him, my heart pounding in my ears.

The passage led us down a dimly lit staircase, the air growing colder and heavier with each step. My mind raced with questions, but Jeremy remained silent as we descended further into the depths of the club.

Finally, we emerged into a vast underground chamber. The room was filled with wealthy patrons, their faces obscured by masks as they mingled and sipped champagne.

My breath caught in my throat as I took in the scene before me. Scantily clad girls were paraded around the room like prized possessions, their eyes downcast as they were inspected and appraised by the patrons.

I felt a surge of anger and disgust rise within me, but before I could react, Jeremy pulled me aside, his voice barely above a whisper. "Stay calm, Isadora. We need to blend in and wait for the right moment to make our move."

I nodded, my heart hammering in my chest as I tried to quell the rising panic. The room seemed to spin around me as I struggled to make sense of the horrifying reality unfolding before my eyes.

As the auction began, my stomach churned with a sickening mix of fear and revulsion. The bids rose frighteningly high, and I watched in horror as the girls were bought and sold like objects, their fates sealed with each exchange of money.

But then, to my horror, I realized that it was my turn to take the stage. I could feel the eyes of the patrons boring into me as I was led forward, my heart pounding in my chest.

As the bidding war intensified, I felt a wave of panic wash over me. I had to get out of here; I had to escape before it was too late. But before I could make a move, a voice cut through the chaos, sending a chill down my spine.

"Sixty grand for her," a man declared, his voice cold and calculating. My blood ran cold as I realized that I had been sold to the highest bidder, my fate now in the hands of a stranger.

** * * *********

As I was led away by the man who had purchased me, a wave of fear washed over me. My mind raced with questions and doubts, but I pushed them aside, focusing on the task at hand. I had to find a way out of this nightmare.

As we walked through the dimly lit corridor, I stole glances at the man who had bought me. He was tall and imposing, with sharp features and piercing eyes that seemed to bore into my soul. His expression was unreadable, and I shivered involuntarily under his gaze.

Finally, we reached a secluded alcove, hidden from prying eyes. Kian, as he had introduced himself, turned to face me, his demeanor cold and distant.

"You belong to me now," he stated matter-of-factly, his voice sending shivers down my spine.

I squared my shoulders, refusing to show him any sign of weakness. "I am not anyone's property," I retorted, my voice steady despite the fear coursing through me.

Kian's lips curled into a humourless smile. "Oh, but you are," he countered, his tone dripping with arrogance. "You were bought and paid for, fair and square. You would do well to remember that."

I clenched my jaw, struggling to maintain my composure. "What do you want from me?" I demanded, my voice tinged with defiance.

Kian's smile widened, revealing a flash of teeth. "I want you to entertain me," he replied, his eyes flickering with amusement. "I want you to dance for me, to sing for me, to do whatever I desire. And in return, I will give you everything you could ever dream of."

I scoffed at his words, my anger bubbling to the surface. "I don't want anything from you," I spat, my voice laced with contempt. "I would rather die than be at your mercy."

Kian's expression hardened, his eyes flashing with something akin to fury. "You will do as I say," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You have no choice in the matter."

I met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down. "I will never bow to you," I declared, my voice filled with conviction. "I will fight you every step of the way, no matter the cost."

For a moment, there was silence between us, tension crackling in the air like electricity. Then, to my surprise, Kian chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down my spine.

"You have spirit; I'll give you that," he mused, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "But I have ways of breaking even the strongest of wills. And mark my words, Isadora, I will break you."

I bristled at his words, refusing to let him see the fear that churned within me. "You can try," I shot back, my voice tinged with defiance. "But I will never give in to you."

As Kian's hand came crashing across my cheek, a sharp, stinging sensation erupted, sending shockwaves through my body. I stumbled backward, my hand instinctively flying to my throbbing cheek. Anger boiled within me, but I bit back the retort that threatened to spill from my lips. I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.

"Don't you dare speak to me like that," Kian hissed, his voice laced with venom. "You are nothing but a lowly servant, and you will show me the respect I deserve."

I glared at him, my fists clenched at my sides. But before I could utter a word, he grabbed my arm roughly and dragged me out of the club. I stumbled and fought against his grip, but his hold was like iron, unyielding, and relentless.

Moments later, we emerged into the cool night air, and I found myself being thrown into the passenger seat of a sleek Rolls Royce. The door slammed shut with a resounding thud, leaving me alone with Kian and the suffocating silence that hung between us.

The engine roared to life, and we pulled away from the club, leaving the chaos and depravity behind us. I sank back into the plush leather seat, exhaustion washing over me like a tidal wave. The events of the night had taken their toll, and I could feel the weight of them pressing down on me, threatening to crush me under their immense burden.

I must have drifted off to sleep, for when I awoke, the world outside the car window had changed. Gone were the dimly lit streets and the clamor of the city. In their place stood a sprawling mansion, its imposing silhouette looming against the night sky.

I blinked groggily, trying to make sense of my surroundings. How did we end up here? And what did Kian intend to do with me now?

Before I could gather my wits, Kian's voice shattered the silence, cutting through the darkness like a knife. "Wake up, Isadora," he commanded, his tone devoid of emotion. "We've arrived."

I blinked away the remnants of sleep and reluctantly pushed open the car door, stepping out onto the gravel driveway. The mansion loomed before me, it's magnificence was overwhelming. I felt like a tiny speck in comparison, insignificant and inconsequential.

Kian's hand closed around mine, yanking me forward with a force that made my bones ache. I stumbled, trying to keep pace with his brisk strides, but he showed no signs of slowing down. He led me towards the imposing front door, his grip tightening with every step.

As we approached, I saw figures milling about in the darkness, their hushed whispers floating in the night air. Some recoiled at the sight of Kian, their faces twisted in fear, while others greeted him with deference and respect.

I felt a knot form in the pit of my stomach as we reached the threshold of the mansion. What awaited me inside? And what role did I play in Kian's twisted game?

But before I could voice my concerns, Kian pushed open the door, revealing a world of luxury and decadence beyond. He cast me a steely glance, his eyes glittering with malice.

"Welcome to your new home, Isadora," he said, his voice dripping with menace. "I hope you'll find it to your liking."

As we stepped inside the mansion, I couldn't help but marvel at the sight in front of me. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings, casting a warm glow over the marble floors.

But my awe was short-lived as Kian dragged me through the foyer and into the heart of the mansion. The air was thick with tension, and I could feel the weight of Kian's gaze on me, like a predator stalking its prey.

We passed through a series of rooms, each more extravagant than the last. I stole glances at the people we passed, their faces hidden behind masks of indifference and arrogance. I couldn't help but feel like an outsider in this world of wealth and privilege, a pawn in a game that I didn't understand.

Finally, we reached a set of double doors, which Kian pushed open. We stepped into a sprawling ballroom, the air alive with the sound of laughter and music. Couples twirled gracefully across the dance floor, their movements fluid and effortless.

But as we made our way through the crowd, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at my insides. I was surrounded by strangers, their eyes watching me with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. I felt like an imposter in this world of wealth and privilege, a pawn in a game that I didn't understand.

As Kian led me towards the far end of the ballroom, my heart sank at the realization that there was no escape. I was trapped in this gilded cage, at the mercy of a man whose intentions were as dark as the shadows that lurked in the corners of the room.

But before I could dwell on my fate any longer, Kian stopped abruptly, his grip tightening on my arm. I followed his gaze to where a group of men stood huddled in conversation, their faces obscured by masks of anonymity.

Kian exchanged a few words with one of the men, his voice low and urgent. I strained to catch snippets of their conversation, but their words were lost in the cacophony of noise that surrounded us.

Suddenly, Kian turned to me, his eyes ablaze with fierce intensity. "Listen to me, Isadora," he said, his voice low and urgent. "You must do exactly as I say if you want to survive. Understand?"

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn't know what Kian had planned for me, but I knew that I had no choice but to obey.

With a sense of dread gnawing at my insides, I followed Kian as he led me towards a secluded alcove at the edge of the ballroom. We slipped into the shadows, hidden from prying eyes, as Kian's plan began to unfold.

But as the night wore on and the festivities continued, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. The air was thick with tension, and I could feel the weight of Kian's gaze on me, like a predator stalking its prey.

And then, just as I thought things couldn't get any worse, a figure emerged from the crowd. He approached us with purposeful strides, his eyes fixed on me with a chilling intensity.

I felt a shiver run down my spine as the man drew closer, his presence casting a shadow over everything. His features were obscured by the dim light, but I could sense the power and authority emanating from him like a tangible force.

As he reached out a hand towards Kian, a smirk playing on his lips, my heart pounded in my chest. I knew, deep down, that this man spelt trouble. His arrival signaled a shift in the tides, a turning point in the twisted game that Kian had ensnared me in.

"Long time, no see, Kian," he said, his voice dripping with malice.